Swimming to Stay in One Place
by TortiQuercu
Summary: Ward has to deal with panic from his past when Skye falls into a well on a mission. Prompt-fic for Foxx (and Wolf's Edge & Bridget)! Hints of Skyeward, one-shot, no spoilers.


**A/N: Aaaaaaaaa this is a ridiculously late prompt-fic, I'm sorry. Can prompts go stale? Apologies to Foxx, who provided this request: "**Skye and Ward are on a mission and they fall into a well, bringing back some nasty flashbacks for Ward, driving him to finally open up to Skye".** I took a bit of liberty with it, as one does, but hopefully it more or less hit the mark! ^_^**

**Hints of Skyeward, one-shot, no spoilers.**

"He wondered what kind of life it would be, having to keep swimming all the time to stay exactly in the same place. Pretty similar to his own, he decided."

~ Terry Prachett, _The Color of Magic_

* * *

"I wonder if the monks ever imagined we'd be poking around their backyard for alien stuff," Skye was babbling as they trudged through the fog. In all honesty, Ward had kind of tuned her out by this stage. She'd gone from complaining about the dreary weather at the remote monastery in northern Portugal, to thrilled about the "totally wild bone collection" in their ossuary, to tech-laced rambling about the wireless transmitters Fitz had them staking out every few hundred yards in a large, wet field.

It took several moments for Ward to tune in to the fact that Skye had broken off suddenly with an inexplicable yelp, and when he turned around in curiosity, she was gone. He blinked, spinning around, failing to process. "Skye?" he called in confusion. No reply came. She had vanished.

* * *

ONE HOUR PRIOR….

"We're going to drop Ward and Skye off in Vinhais, they'll head to the search area in the Short Bus and set up the wireless grid," Agent May informed the team gathered in the mission room.

Ward leaned in towards Coulson. "I see you didn't get to pick the names once again," he muttered.

Coulson smiled amiably. "Actually, this time I did."

May glared at them. "If I may _continue_. The Bus will continue on to Barcelona and rendezvous with Dr. García Ruiz. The doctor will assist FitzSimmons…."

"_Consult_ with Fitz and Simmons, please!" Fitz interrupted. "Dr. García is the foremost mind in the thermodynamics of nanoparticles…."

"He practically created the entire field…" Simmons chimed in.

"…. without his work on megatube osmotics we wouldn't even _have_ nanogenerators…" Fitz continued.

"…can you imagine where we'd be without his breakthroughs on fullerenes…" Simmons nodded enthusiastically.

"… the point is that Dr. García doesn't _assist_ anybody…."

"Okay then! _Consult!_" snapped Agent May with a scowl. "He will _consult _with FitzSimmons on the data coming in from the Vinhais site. Barring any unforeseen complications in Spain, we'll be back to extract Ward and Skye at 23-hundred hours. Any questions? No? Good. Get moving, people. Wheels down in one hour."

* * *

"SKYE!" Grant shouted louder this time, retracing his footsteps back towards the monastery. He thought he could hear a faint reply. "Skye, where the hell did you go?"

"Be careful!" she was calling, her voice echoing strangely. "Don't come too close!"

Ward crested a slight grassy hill and was stunned to see a sinkhole had appeared in the field. "Oh my God," he murmured, gingerly approaching the edge. "Skye? Are you okay?" he yelled down into the hole.

"Yeah, I think so," she replied. "I landed in _water_, what the hell?" It's dark down here, though, I can't see…"

Ward had gone deathly cold.

_He could hear Skye splashing around. _

_He could hear water dripping._

_He could hear her desperately trying to stay above water, her screams bouncing off the stone walls of the well… her frantic cries for Grant to save her…._

It was Skye's amused whoop that snapped him back to reality. He carefully tested the turf around the sinkhole, finding a patch that seemed stable. Swallowing the fear rising in his throat, he peered down at her. He couldn't see much, only silvery ripples across water from the scant daylight seeping down and the moving shape of his rookie.

"Greetings, Surface Dweller," Skye called up to him impishly. "You gotta a light?"

He stared down, motionless.

"_No. Not yet. If you save her, I'm throwing you in as well," the ghost from his past hissed in his ear._

"This place is so cool! I think it's an old cistern. Oh man, I think I just touched a drowned rat. C'mon, Ward, throw me your flashlight! I wanna look around."

_The rope was in his hand, but he couldn't move. Elliot was standing at his shoulder, his threats dripping from his mouth like venom. Tommy was having trouble keeping his head above water and he disappeared under the surface. When the water broke open again, it was Skye who emerged, flailing and crying._

"Uhhh… Ward? You okay up there?"

He continued to stare down at her, unseeing.

"_Help me, please!" she wailed, her eyes wide with panic. "Please, Grant!" He glanced at Elliot and his older brother smirked coldly. Skye's head disappeared under t__he water again, fear flooding through Grant like ice water._

"Okay, um, I'm not sure what's going on up there, Tiger, but I don't see a way to climb back up," Skye shouted. "Um… you look kinda shell-shocked. I'm okay, Ward. I can swim. Look, see? Treading water! Like a boss! Ward? …. WARD!"

His eyes snapped to hers, awareness beginning to dawn in them. "Skye…" he breathed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeeeeeeup," she replied slowly. "Better now that you've rejoined me here on Earth. Are you… are _you_ okay?"

He swallowed hard and ran his hands through his hair nervously. "Yes," he responded a little too forcefully. "Rope. There's rope in the Short Bus… I mean, in the truck. I'll grab it. Hang on."

"Ward, wait!" she hollered, and he froze. "Throw me your stupid flashlight, would you?"

"Oh, right." He pulled his light from his belt and carefully dropped it down the hole towards Skye. She caught it deftly as she swam and turned it on, cackling.

The beam of the flashlight revealed the old stone walls and arches of a surprisingly intact underground reservoir. "Cooool!" Skye's voiced echoed around the chamber. She began to lazily paddle through the water, splashing lightly, and Grant couldn't halt the choked sound that escaped him.

"God, Skye, please stop," he begged as his panic rose again. "Stop moving. I'm getting the rope. Just wait, okay? Please."

"Ummm… okay," she called back up to him as he disappeared from her view. Baffled, she swept the flashlight around while floating in place.

The air was musty but not entirely unpleasant. Skye didn't fear the dark, on the contrary, she felt strangely at home in cramped and shadowy spaces. The ambient sounds of water dripping onto stone and sloshing lightly as she moved were actually quite soothing. She hummed contentedly to herself as she played the light around the ancient masonry.

Minutes later, Ward returned, wild-eyed, with a harness and rope. Skye was impressed, considering they had left the SUV all the way back by the old monastery ruins. He immediately began lowering them down towards her.

He still looked extremely uncomfortable. "Can you climb into the harness?" he asked, his voice wavering ever so slightly.

"Oh, sure," she replied, keeping her tone light. "I was at this crazy party once in Tarzana, everyone got really drunk and we had a contest to see who could get dressed the fastest IN the pool. You know, sort of like reverse-skinny dipping? If I can do that, I can get into this harness. Oooof!…. Ack!…. jeans are actually really hard to put on wet, it turns out… well, without drowning I mean. It was the funniest…."

"SKYE."

"Yes, Ward?"

"Stop talking. Particularly about drowning."

She nodded as she continued to squirm into the harness and buckle the clips. "Ah, gotcha. _Ixnay on the owningdray_. Sorry."

Her remark was ridiculous in that specifically Skye way that he had never known from anyone else before. It somehow served as a firm reality check for him, suddenly calming him. He shook his head and chuckled.

Skye glanced back up and grinned broadly at him. "You good now, Robot?"

He exhaled in reply. "Yeah, I'm good. You ready for a lift?"

"Hoist away, Champ!"

Bracing himself on solid ground several yards away from the sinkhole, Ward deftly hauled the rope up until Skye was crawling up over the edge. She stood up in the muddy grass, dripping wet and awkwardly trying to step out of the harness. Her hair was plastered to her head and she was shivering. She smiled at Ward, and he explosively let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He was at her side in two strides, folding her wet form into a strong hug.

"That was an adventu…ooof!" she exclaimed as he squeezed her tightly. "Ummmm… Ward? Squeezing! Ooof! Can't breathe!"

His arms loosened and he pulled back slightly, but didn't let her go. His eyes were still tinged with worry as he scanned her completely.

"Just wet," she assured him, pulling at the soggy collar of her jacket.

He frowned, and ran his thumb over a wide, mud-slicked graze on her forehead. She shivered and closed her eyes. She was just cold… right? "This doesn't look 'just wet' to me, Skye," he admonished.

"Okay so I might have slowed my fall a little bit… with my head," she joked, but Ward didn't appear to be amused.

"Back to the Short Bus, Rookie," he said sternly. "Dry clothes and first aid." He kept an arm wrapped around her as they began to trudge across the field.

"I didn't exactly bring a wardrobe change for the mission."

"You can have my jacket. Are you injured anywhere else?

"Ward," Skye said softly as she stopped and placed her palm on his chest. "Look at me. I'm fine. Really. What gives?"

His mouth set into a straight line. "You fell," he responded woodenly. "Just worried you got hurt."

Her expression was stoic. "Really. Ward, you totally zoned out on me, then panicked. Do you think I just fell off the turnip truck yesterday? Talk."

"The… _turnip truck_? Honestly, Skye," he huffed. "Fine. SUV first." He tugged his rookie back into motion, and they tramped briskly back towards the remains of the monastery.

By the time they arrived at the SHIELD vehicle, Skye was shaking. Ward pulled a blanket from the back of the truck and held it open. "Okay, Rookie. Strip!" he commanded, and both of her eyebrows shot up.

"Wow," she exclaimed, pulling off her sodden jacket. "That's not how I imagined this moment would go."

"You've imagined this moment?" he teased her, and she rolled her eyes. She peeled off her wet Henley and snapped it towards his face.

"Don't think I'm gonna buy you getting distracted by my wet and naked body, Secret Agent Mandroid," she retorted. "Robots can't fool me."

At that point, she was trying to squirm out of her jeans and he had to avert his eyes, even behind the blanket. Something about her awkward hopping, twisting, and grasping was a distressing combination of adorable and seductive. He swallowed hard and audibly, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'm not looking," he said defensively.

She pulled the edges of the blanket from his outstretched hands and wrapped it around her torso, using a corner of it to towel-dry her hair. Ward tugged his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders.

"Meet you in the back seat," he told her, reaching for the first aid kit.

"Another moment! It's all moving so fast!" she staged a gasp and a southern accent.

He rolled his eyes at her, but chuckled. "Get in the truck, Miz Scarlett."

Grant's hands shook considerably as he stood at the open tailgate, trying to open a foil-wrapped alcohol wipe. He stared at them, puzzled. It took him several moments to realize it was the after-effects of adrenaline, the remainder of an honest-to-God panic reflex at seeing Skye in the water. He sighed and hefted the first aid pack over his shoulder.

Skye smiled reassuringly from the back bench of the SUV when he opened the door. "Still fine," she told him.

He sat down beside her and gestured for her to slide closer. "I know," he murmured quietly. "It's not you, Skye… well, I mean, it _is_ you, but…. it's complicated."

She cocked her read as he dabbed the alcohol wipe on her forehead, but said nothing.

"I've never told anyone about this," Grant lamented. He focussed his attention on the abrasion over her brow, on the gentle pressure of his fingers. He knew she was looking up into his eyes, he could feel it. He knew her gaze would be open and non-judgmental, far too much like the feeling of belonging, of coming home. He knew he couldn't meet that gaze.

"You know my older brother, Elliot, was… a piece of work," he began hesitantly. She nodded slightly under his hands. "My grandparents had a farm up in Haverhill. There was a… an old stone well. Out in the acreage. Unused, but not capped. Stupid, really, to have kids anywhere near it."

He fell silent, but she gave him space. He opened a small packet of antibiotic ointment and meticulously daubed it on her forehead. After a long pause, he continued.

"Tommy is my little brother. We were…. young, I was eleven and he was seven. Elliot was just starting to really… I dunno… go bad. Cruel. Beyond bullying. One day, he threw Tommy down into the well. Made me stand there and watch while Tommy nearly drowned."

"Oh my God," Skye whispered, unable to remain quiet any longer. She lifted her hands up to his wrists and wrapped her frozen fingers around them, pulling his arms gently away from her face. He still couldn't meet her eyes, he stared at the first aid kit instead.

"Haven't been a fan of water or wells since," he said sourly. "Don't ever let SHIELD find out about that, by the way. Specialists can't be phobic about anything, if that crops up on a psych eval, then I'm out of a job."

"You know I would never, Ward," she chastised him. "Tommy, is he… did you… what happened?"

Grant zipped up the first aid pack with unnecessary force. "He's fine," he answered tightly. "I threw down a rope. Pulled him out. He lives in Boston now with a girlfriend and a Yorkshire terrier."

She released his wrists but he surprised her, taking her cold hands and folding them into his own to warm them. "What does he do? Did he grow up to be a big, strong secret agent man too?" she breathed.

Ward let out a short laugh. "No, no. Nothing like that. He's a school counsellor. Helping kids. Surprise, surprise!"

Skye grinned toothily, Ward made the strategic mistake of glancing up to see it. "I think I'd like Tommy," she said. His chest clenched strangely.

"Yeah," he murmured. "He'd love you." He was trapped now, lost in her unrestrained smile and twinkling eyes. Her hair was still wet and charmingly bedraggled, his fingers itched to wind around it or tuck it behind her ears.

"Ummmm well, no offence, Tommy," she ribbed, "but I'd never come between a man and his Yorkshire terrier. What did your grandparents grow?"

"Grow?"

"On their farm?"

His lips twitched with amusement. "Oh! No…. horses! They bred thoroughbreds. Race horses."

Skye's face crinkled with joy. "Horses? Of course it would be horses! I bet you can ride."

"I can," he replied with a grin.

"I bet you look really sexy on horseback," she said impishly.

"I do," he smirked. "Skye…. I'm sorry, for… for losing it back there. That's never happened before."

"Nah, it's nothing. I understand, of course you have some bad memories there."

He was already shaking her head. "It's not okay, Skye. What if you'd been hurt? I completely froze up. I don't know why and that makes it dangerous. It's not like 16th century cisterns have any right being a trigger for me. Maybe it's… maybe it's just… you."

Skye's big brown eyes went wide, and he knew he was right. He nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said confidently. "It's you. Do me a favour, Skye? Don't fall into any more wells, okay?"

"It was a cistern," she corrected him, "but I'll do my very best to stay out of them from this point onwards. No guarantees."

"There never are, not in our line of work."

"Hey, Ward?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm cold, wet and wearing nothing but a safety blanket and a tactical jacket that smells like you."

"Um… _yeeeah_. I'm trying very hard not to notice."

"I'm not going back out there to finish installing the transmitters, and you can't make me."

He laughed, he couldn't help it. The look of absolute petulance on her face could probably persuade him to move mountains, and he knew it. He shook his head. "I won't make you," he said warmly. "I'll crank the heater and finish staking out the transmitters. You'll be okay until I get back?"

"Yessir. You're the best, Ward."

"Oh, I know. You owe me one, Rookie."

"More than one… I'm keeping your jacket, too."


End file.
